


Trace of Tantalus

by nonky



Category: Nancy Drew (TV 2019)
Genre: F/M, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 22:16:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29891370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonky/pseuds/nonky
Summary: She had one material thing about Owen left, and it was a tiny vial of sand.Spoilers up to the end of season one.
Relationships: Nancy Drew/Owen Marvin
Kudos: 4
Collections: Nancy Drew TV Series (2019)





	Trace of Tantalus

It was harder to be brave sitting in her bedroom alone, and Nancy had an inconvenient surge of anxiety once her door was shut. Privacy didn’t give peace, nor did a change of clothes or a long scrub of her face and brushing her teeth. 

She had one material thing about Owen left, and it was a tiny vial of sand. His body was sent away practically the hour he died. She had slept in his bed but they had never been at the point of clothing worn home or gifts exchanged. Their spark was just that, and she was blinded by the afterimage of his form. He appeared like a ghost in reversed colours, a negative image with fuzzy edges when she shut her eyes too long. 

Just like Nick, she hadn’t asked many questions about Owen. He was a Marvin and he was solving his own family mystery. He worked hard and he seemed to care about the people of the town who didn’t have millions to correct injustices. He was kind and passionate with her. He was generous. He was brave enough to get himself killed protecting her one way or another.

He was gone, not even within her reach through a seance. The Aglaeca might have claimed him anyway, trapping his soul. At best he was cheated out of most of his adult life. She was out of her depth with the religious component and the ghost information was contradictory. Death didn’t want to be solved.

It was possible to know how all of it had happened and still just not get it. Nancy couldn’t get the idea by the jagged edges without pain that made her clumsy. Owen was dead, perhaps prematurely by only six days, or perhaps by six decades. 

Impossibly, he was still helping. His fish hook portent gave a hushed rattle as she handled it gently. Nancy had never understood the tokens people kept of their loved ones. Some items were meaningful for what they were, but some were just worthless stuff to remind of a loss. This was something else. It had a tiny power to it, a little zing of otherness blended with his fading warmth. It had touched someone who cared for her and something that hunted her, bridging the distance of human and nonhuman things. 

It was a bullet if she could figure out how to shoot. It was a chance Owen would want her to take.


End file.
